Transcendence of Fate
by inayeth1
Summary: Master of Death is more than just fancy nickname. What happens when Harry wakes up from a deep sleep and the world is full of dragons and elves and wizards no longer exist? There will be no slash of any kind in this story.
1. Chapter 1

When one lives for a 100,000 years, he becomes weary of the consistency in life. The changes in the season's are like the blink of an eye. He becomes stale and rickety and his joints lose their strength. He wants, like every other eldery person, to lie down and sleep and never again wake up.

Over the years he had made plenty of friends, some stayed by him for a few weeks, some a few months, some a few years and a lucky few stayed among the living for centuries. Eventually, however, every single one of them passed on. It was always a heartbreaking moment when someone he knew moved on from this world.

"Is your mind made up Sire?" The man in front of him was his closest and only friend in this generation. He had a long white beard, nearing his 348th birthday, the man was ready to move on from this life. Maybe he would live a year longer or two, but nary an old wizard ever lived upto 350 years unless he had a philosophers stone. It was unheard of, in all his centuries this was the longest he had ever seen a wizard living upto.

"Yes Nathaniel. I wish however that you would let me end myself." Harry said.

"My sire! Speak not hastily, for it is not your death but a deep sleep we place you under. I would not have you kill yourself if I could help it." Nathaniel exclaimed.

I was fond of My friend, like I had been the fighter against Voldemort eons ago, he too had fought his own dark lady 2 centuries ago and killed her, almost dying while getting the job done. He and I were somewhat similar being descendents of Godric gryffindor and so there was more than a slight possibility that I was his ancestor too.

I smiled at him.

"Dear child, the rigour of life suits me not, I would hope the sleep you put me under never again awakens me, but that is a fools hope, rather I shall wish that I shall be free of my insanity and recover my creaky old bones as best I can."

"As you wish sire, lay on your bed so we can begin."

His bed, as required by the ritual, was in the center of a grass field in front of his palace. Nathaniel waited for a moment before he took out his knife and carved symbols into the ground around the bed, the next part was tricky, he got out a container of vampires blood mixed with the powdered eye of a basilisk, and poured it into the runes around the bed, this ritual was a personal creation of his sire and this was the first time it was going to be tested, he twirled his wand and said in a loud and clear voice.

"dormient somnum sempiternum et non consurgant"

The runes began to glow and a reddish hue surrounded the bed and Harry. His eyes were closed and he was frowning.

"This is quiet unpleasant Nathaniel, make sure to mention that in your notes for future reference." Hary said.

"Did something go wrong?" Nathaniel asked.

"No its working as it should, i can feel the pull of slumber and it is strong, it is very strong nathaniel. Child give me the draught of living death before my consciousness slips away fully. I would not want to let this stay incomplete."

Nathaniel picked up the small flask of the draught of living death and gave it to Harry who drank it while lying on his back. The ritual was complete. He watched as his sires head fell back on his pillow and his eyes closed for the final time.

The blood rose out of the runes and sank into his sires body and vanished.

Nathaniel sighed and raised his wand, with a swipe of his hand, the runes around the bed were undone. He took the sires ring and placed it on his finger, the wand in his hand and the invisibility cloak he spread over him and placed his broomstick beside him.

He was suddenly possessed by a violent need to take the hallows for himself but he controlled himself, he did not wish to be driven insane like his sire had been.

He chanted the strongest protective wards around the bed, left a note explaining everything that was cast on the bed and then cast a spell to throw the bed into another pocket dimension of reality. The spell would hold the bed at the exact same point inside a space that didnt exist in the real world, it was a variation of the expansion charm that let a room be bigger inside than outside, but he'd instead created space inside an electron in a random molecule of air that was then sent up a 100 kilometers and charmed to stay at that very spot for all eternity.


	2. Chapter 2

Eragon:

Eragon knelt in a bed of trampled reed grass. His prey had left a clear trail and he intended to follow it. The herd of deer was already on edge, they'd been attacked twice already but both the times he had missed and this frustrated him greatly. Three days had passed and he hadn't shot a single animal, not even a rabbit and his supplies were running out. If he didn't catch something soon, he'd have to return empty handed and there would be no supples for the rapidly approaching winter. This would bode ill for his family. They could not afford to buy meat in Carvahall.

His target was a small doe with a pronounced limp in her left foot. Eragon was amazed she'd made it this far without a wolf or bear catching her. He got up and trekked further into the valley. The deer had led him deep into the recesses of the spine, a range of untamed mountains that extended up and down Algaeasia.

It was a clear night and the moon was shining brightly. He reached the perfect spot to take his shot and drew 3 arrows from the quiver on his back and knocked one of them into his bow. The deer were down for the night. Completely oblivious of his presence. He held his breath and drew the string taut when he spotted the doe that was his target. It had its leg outstretched awkwardly. This was perfect.

An explosion tore through the ground in front of him and the deer scattered. He cursed under his breath and shot arrows one after another. Three arrows flew rapidly but two missed, the third, however, struck true. The doe fell, an arrow piercing its eye and died before it hit the ground.

Pleased, he turned. The ground in front of him was charred and black. A small crater had formed in it, and there was something spherical inside it. Curious, he moved forward to get a better look. It looked like a blue stone with white veins criss crossing its surface. It glowed slightly and he felt drawn to it. The stone had come here by magic, of that, he was in no doubt and both magic and magic users inspired awe. Carvahall was a small village and he lived ten miles from it. It did have one storyteller, Brom, who rarely ever told a story when he was visiting the village, but when he did, it always had to do with magic and dragons and wicked shades of darkness, or the black king and the treachery of the empire. Everything he knew about magic warned him that what he was about to do could be perilious but the stone looked so beautiful... He cautiously reached forward as if under a trance and touched it, marvelling how its surface was smooth and frictionless like hardened silk before snapping his hand back. The stone had shocked him!

He cradled his hand pressing it against his body and waited for the strange sensation to fade into nothingness but suddenly the stone rocked and a squeak cut through the night. Startled viciously, he dropped his bow and drew his hunting knife from his belt a little uncertain as to what good it would do against magic.

The stone squeaked again and sharp cracks began appearing on its surface to his surprise.

A piece in the center of the stone wobbled and rose as if pushed outward by something inside and to his great disbelief a scaly somewhat triangular head poked out of the stone- no egg!

A few more cracks later, the creature was completely out of its egg. It was about the length of his forearm and a deep sapphire blue, its wings were several times larger than its body.

What bird is this?! He thought to himself.

He moved a little closer so he could see it more clearly but recoiled in shock when he noticed its scales. In front of him, bathed in the moonlight, was a dragon.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry:

He knew the exact moment he woke up and grumbled. It didn't feel like he'd slept at all. Maybe the stupid potion had never worked, he put his hand inside his pocket and pulled out his pocket watch, surprised greatly at how very tiring the simple act felt. The watch had been enchanted so it would show the exact number of years since he'd fallen asleep. The digital digits showcased a number that seemed impossible. He shook it, as if trying to get it to work properly but deep inside he knew the number was correct. He quit what he was doing and instead retreated into his mind to check for signs of insanity. If he was insane, he decided, he would kill himself right now, he could not risk loosing a nightmare into the world again. He remembered how age had changed him, he had become the greatest despair of all of mankind, a quasi-god, with powers that were almost unreal, even for a wizard. Everywhere he went, death had followed. At first, he was amused by it, the high of killing an euphoria. He had become creative in the end, producing the most torturous ways a person could die. Slowly he'd shifted from mass-killings in crowded places to kidnapping a few people every decade. Splitting open their minds and spreading bare their soul. He would find out every single one of their fears and create the most gruesome personalised tortures suited to the persons deepest and most irrational terrors and then he would inflict it upon them day and night sometimes for years.

One of the most horrifying things he had done had been his last kill. The man had been burnt by acid previously and that was his greatest fear. He never wanted to be burnt again.

So he designed a torment for him. He turned every single atom of blood in his body into the most concentrated acid he could think of and then charmed it so that every time the man was almost dead it transmuted into a healing elixir and healed him until he was completely healthy and then turned back into an acid. This had continued for an entirety of six months. The screams of this man had been extremely satisfactory so he had decided to let him die earlier as mercy. It had been gratifying and delightful at that time but now it horrified him and caused him deep anguish.

He remembered the look in the man's eyes when he'd ended his punishment and healed him, he had begged for his death like every other man or woman he'd tortured. They'd all begged on their knees but this one came forward and kissed the hem of his robes.

A flash of recognition had crossed his mind, followed by a feeling of deep loathing as he remembered Voldemort. Unbidden to him, his name came to his mind, and the names of his friends, things he had forgotten a millennia ago. He remembered how horrified he'd become at that very instant as he remembered himself for the first time in a thousand years. He had looked at the man begging for death and a flutter of indecision went through his mind. He raised his wand and cast the memory charm on him instead of the killing curse, erasing the last six months of his life. He cast every healing spell he knew on the man until he became healed fully, he still looked extremely malnourished though, but that would go away with time. He searched the mind of his victim and found that he was a muggle, he had a wife who he loved and who loved him dearly. His wife had been late into her pregnancy when he'd taken her husband. Shame spread through his body in waves.

He'd then bought a magical cell phone and dialed in his wife's number.

"Hello, this is Sahperia Presley, who is speaking?"

Her voice rang clear and soft and beautiful. Suddenly he felt an incredible desire to possess this woman but he clamped down on it.

"You are the wife of Mr Oliver Presley." I stated into the phone.

"Yes I am." Her voice broke a little.

"If you want your husband back alive then you need to get a bag of a 10000 pounds and throw it into the river Thames. Make sure you do it before the week is over or you'll never see him again."

"Wait wha-"

He cut the phone. Most probably the woman would think this was a horrible prank, but out of sheer desperation she would throw 10000 pounds into the river. Muggles were foolish and predictable that way. A lousy ransom for a kidnapping that was this long and baffling for everyone involved. You didn't always kidnap someone for half a year and then ask for just 10000 pounds, regardless, she would get her husband back, bound and gagged lying in her living room when she got back after throwing the money into the river which was at a 5 minute drive from their home. Her husband was well off enough that they could afford paying the ransom.

The money would go into an anonymous trust he'd set up for helping the Presley's through their trauma. Memory charm and healing spells or not, the man's body would not forget his abuse and sooner or later he would face nightmares of being burned alive, that would pass if he got proper psychiatric attention though, so he made sure to donate a few million pounds to the trust himself.

True to his prediction, the next day the woman had thrown the money into the river and he'd apparated her husband into their living room. He'd watched as she came back forlorn and crying and how shocked she'd become when she saw her husband lying on the floor in front of her. Tears of despair had turned into tears of joy as soon as she'd checked he was still alive.

He'd left then and vanished from the world, putting his body under a meditative trance for 10000 years. After coming out of it, he was saner yet still he had the urge to kill something. This was when he'd met a peculiar felllow named Nathaniel who reminded him of Dumbledore. He'd helped him defeat the dark lady who co-incidentally had been his ex-wife, while staying away from the actual fighting afraid the blood and gore would drive him insane again. In return he'd made Nathaniel promise he would perform the ritual he had deisgned to put him under a deep and healing sleep.

Suddenly his mind jerked back to his present situation. His musings had taken but a moment. Now completely alert, he felt a consciousness skim the surface of his mind testing his defences, then withdrawing quickly and he started.

He had slept for a little over a billion years but he'd woken because someone or something was trying to break through the wards around his bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Eragon sat at the kitchen table in his uncle's house, rubbing the palm with which he'd touched the egg and shuddered remembering how it'd felt. The feeling was nothing, however, compared to how it felt when he'd first touched the dragon. A blast of icy energy had surged up his arm burning in his veins like liquid fire, he had fallen to the ground crying out, and his whole body had spasmed wildly for a few seconds and then he'd become numb and cold, unable to move. After what seemed like hours, warmth had seeped back to his body but his right hand was still unfeeling. Alarmed, he'd rubbed his hand a bit before trying to twitch it, but it remained still.

He had seen the dragon coming towards him again, its snout almost touching his side and panicked. He DID NOT want to touch it once more. He'd gotten up from the forest floor and ran away from it and hadn't stopped until he'd reached the edge of the spine. For a second, he'd felt the insane urge to turn back and return, but he pushed it down, he was not willing to become dragon food. From there, he'd walked all the way to his home.

The house had a shingled roof and a brick chimney. Eaves hung over the whitewashed walls shadowing the ground below. One side of the enclosed porch was filled with split would, ready for the fire. A jumble of farm tools cluttered the other side.

His uncle Garrow had opened the door. He'd walked in, sat down at the kitchen table and told him everything, and now his uncle was looking at him in a calculating manner.

"Maybe you're mistaken?" His uncle asked him.

"I know it was a dragon as sure as I know the sun rises from the East. I'd sooner believe my name isn't eragon than doubt my eyes this once. Besides I can prove it to you."

Eragon held out his right hand, 5 hours had passed but he still couldn't move his fingers, the wrist was perfectly fine now so he figured he would be alright soon. He showed Garrow the shining symbol on his palm. It was shaped like a curled dragon, the fact further reinforcing his belief.

Garrows gasped "So it is true."

-He had whispered in such a low voice that eragon barely heard it.

Perturbed, he asked, "What do you mean uncle?"

Garrow's head snapped towards him suddenly and he grabbed Eragons shoulder.

"Where is the dragon? Take me to it."

Eragon had lived with Garrow for 14 years, a year shorter than he had lived and never in all his life had he seen Garrow sound so urgent, he was almost desperate. This scared him, because Garrow was a rock. Nothing ever fazed him.

"It's in a clearing deep inside the spine, but its probably gone for good, its been hours since I left it there. Besides its dangerous, when I touched it..." Eragon shuddered

Garrow looked at me incredulously, "Gone for good? Don't you know anything about dragon riders? That dragon chose you to be its rider! Of course it'll shock you the first time you touch it, that's how riders and their dragons bond. The Mark on your palm is an embodiment of the agreement made between humans, elves and dragons centuries ago!"

Eragon blinked, he'd never known Garrow studied history.

Someone knocked on the main door loudly and both of them started. Garrow grunted pointing towards the door with his head. Eragon peered out the window and was surprised when he saw it was Brom, the storyteller from Carvahall, and opened the door.

"Lad where's your uncle I must speak with him immediately."

"Brom I know." Garrow said his voice sounding tired.

Eragon stared at them with a strange expression on his face. Nothing was making sense today.

Brom looked at Garrow for a second then turned to Eragon.

Tilting his head towards the door, he said, "Lad I'm not sure if I tied my horse properly."

Eragon wanted to protest, he had a suspicion they wanted him gone so he wouldn't hear what they were saying. Not showing his discomfort, he obeyed.

Guest's usually tied their horses to an elm tree a good 50 feet from the house, but he didn't see any horse. Maybe Brom had tied him to the fence near the barn behind his house? Frowning, he went to the barn, but there was no sign of any horse. He went back towards the house puzzled and stopped incredulity etched into his face. In front of his home, sitting on the front step, was the dragon.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry was amused. The man had been trying to break into his cell for 2 whole hours now and he would have, if Harry hadn't woken up and reinforced his wards. His skill was admirable, never attacking the same place twice. Harry was certain that his occlumency skills were the best in the world. The sleep he had put himself under had ended all magical activity within himself, except for strengthening his occlumency and sustaining his life. Occlumency was the only thing that would have helped in curing his insanity, and it had worked perfectly. A billion years of strengthening his occlumency and his mind was literally unpenetratable. His legilimency skills were quiet brilliant having had a1,00,000 years practice but they were nothing when compared to his occlumency. He was so calm, he barely exuded any thought, his mind almost invisible on the mental plane.

The wards around his bed were brilliantly done, Harry marveled at their deceiving were built in layers. If you disabled one ward, two others sprung up, if you disabled these, then four more sprung up. It was the most complicated bit of spellwork Harry had ever seen from a mortal. The only way to disable them from outside would be if the attacker tried to brute force his way in. He would succeed if he was magically stronger than the ward maintainer or if someone inside dropped them and Harry was sure he was stronger in magic even though he felt and looked like a living skeleton physically. Nathaniel had done an incredible job and Harry felt sorrow at his friend's passing. He was a good man.

Harry knew his attacker was a man. Every time he attacked Harry's mind, Harry had tried to read its in return. He had succeeded only once learning the person behind the probes was a man and then the attacks had become more fleeting and random.

The intensity of the attacks on his wards increased. Harry sighed, the man was tired with this game. He contemplated tiring him out but immediately disregarded the thought, he wanted out and he was unwilling to wait any longer.

He let the pressure increase to what he estimated a normal wizard could bear and then dropped his wards.

His bed suddenly expanded out of thin air and into a large circular room. The wall was black and the room was lit with torches. A sense of darkness hung about the air, as if people had screamed their throats hoarse in here and then some more. The room was lined with four entrances. A person stood at each door, 3 men and 1 woman. The moment harry saw them he knew they were magical.

"You are quite weak." a dry voice cut through the air.

Harry craned his neck backwards, a man stood behind his bed, his presence warped by the shadows. Harry immediately knew this was the man whose mind he'd read.

The man moved out of the shadows. He was tall, with crimson hair and maroon eyes. His body was thin and compact, like that of a runner. He wore a snake-skin cape and a richly decorated helmet, like a general's. An unsheathed sword hung at his waist, a long scratch in its center. His face was deathly white, with the appearance of a death mask or a polished skull that had its skin pulled back to give the appearance of life and was strikingly familiar.

"Mormon?" Harry said incredulously.

Mormon had been one of his most ingenious experiments with magic. Formerly he had been a part of a man named Sam. A pious man and a stout believer in god. As such, he was deeply scared of being possessed by demons from hell.

Harry had spent 5 years experimenting in his labs before he created the first spirit capable of possession using necromantic and soul magic. The principle was simple. If dead bodies could be reanimated, then dead souls could be reanimated too. He'd caught dementors and split them into two. Capturing the smoky whiteness that came out of them and then performed a simple spell to turn them into a soul container, which wouldn't let a soul escape, souls were incorporeal and the only way thing they couldn't pass through was another soul. Then he'd performed a dead summoning, which was basically the summoning of a soul from a person's body the moment he or she died and before his soul could escape to death.

His intention had been simple, a soul couldn't exist without a body. He wanted the soul to inhibit the recreated body of another soul, which would basically, be a prison. By doing this, he ensured that the living soul wouldn't die because it was trapped inside his soul container. Now he had an incorporeal "pet" soul.

He'd then forced the soul into Sam's body and cast a binding spell and the curse of horcruxes on Sam's mind.

Harry knew minds controlled bodies. And Sam's mind was now controlled by a soul. Ergo, Sam was possessed by a "demon from hell" and unable to do anything about it. Pleased with his work, he'd waited for the screams to begin.

However, for an inexplicable reason he never had understood, his pet soul shifted from Sam's mind into his very soul. The result was something he never would have predicted.

Sam's soul had burst into a thousand pieces. Each piece had turned into a sphere that shifted colours. He'd captured a few hundred of these and magically sealed them and experimented.

He was astounded with the results. Each and everyone of them was a living entity capable of magic and possession. They were naught but babies and they were immortal but they could feel pain and suffering. They had a consciousness, and were capable of splitting into two pieces to reproduce. They expressed emotions by changing their colour.

He then learnt how to summon them and caught every last one of them so he could cast an enchantment on the entire species. Now they could never possess anyone unless summoned, otherwise they would be too powerful and dangerous to let loose into the world.

Hundreds of years later, he'd summoned them for the first time to possess one of his enemies, a man named shaham. The man had turned into what he liked to call "a shade" and renamed himself Mormon.

It had been glorious, watching his once enemy turn into an ally and fight against his very own friends, but soon he'd realised shades weren't trustworthy. Mormon wanted to kill him because he believed he was stronger than Harry and wanted to prove it to the magical world by bringing them his head. Shades adored and loved power. Harry then had the fight of his life on his hands, absolutely loving every moment of it much to the dismay of Mormon. He'd soon discerned that shades were unkillable. After 2 long years of planning, he captured Mormon and began to interrogate him. Shade or not, the cruciatus curse still hurt him

Over the course of a hundred years, he'd tortured every tiny secret out of the spirits. Then he cast a spell that rent a tear in the very fabric of reality and thew the shade into the void, watching dispassionately as the he was wiped from existence. The spirits inside him were cruel ones and the world was better off with them dead.

Harry stared as the man in front of him frowned in confusion in response to his question before leaning forward.

In a menacing tone, he growled "Our name is Durza. An admirable attempt at hiding yourself if I might say so. Did you really think Galbatorix would let any magician in Algaeasia deny his summons and hide? Now that you've been found out, you will face your punishment, here, in Gil'ead. Then you shall be sent to Uruba'een to pledge your service to the king in the ancient language. I hope your bed was comfortable, your new quarters shall be...unpleasant.

A sharp probe hit his mind, but his occlumency turned it aside like it was nothing. Durza gritted his teeth and then uttered a strange word.

"Jierda"

Harry gasped in surprised pain, his leg moving in a direction it wasn't meant to be and a crack echoed through the stale air. Tears threatened to come into his eyes. His leg was bent outward at the knee, broken.

Satisfied Durza turned and left.

The 3 men and the woman at the door came forward, two of them grabbed him under the armpits and jerked him off the bed. He struggled trying to keep them from dragging him on his broken leg, but the third man raised his palm and uttered another word.

"Slytha"

Harry tried to keep himself awake, but the effect of the spell was almost instantaneous and he fell into the comforting embrace of sleep


	6. Chapter 6

Eragon:

A tendril of thought came towards him from the dragon. His mind felt exposed and unprotected for the first time in his life. But the dragons touch was comforting, like velvet against his mind. Soothing him with a soft touch. A knot formed in his throat and he blinked away tears. The dragon had asked him a question. It wanted to know why he'd run away.

He sent back a reply, the feeling he'd felt when he'd first touched it.

If a dragon could flinch, then he believed he'd just witnessed it. The dragon sent back an apology.

Eragon asked a question of his own, he expressed his astonishment at how the dragon had ended up here.

He got back many images. First, the dragon showed him that it ate some of the doe eragon had shot when he was spasming on the forest floor, although it had felt like hours then, in real time only 15 minutes had passed. The dragon then proceeded to show him pictures of it flying from one branch to another, above him, as he ran away from it. The dragon was amused it hadn't been spotted.

Eragon shifted his attention from the dragon to the front door, it was ajar. Scared lest Brom come out suddenly and see his dragon, he reached forward as if to pick it up.

"...just don't hatch for anyone. Dragons are smart. Don't worry about the dragon in the forest, it followed him back to the house, I sensed a child's mind nearby. I thought maybe it was you it hatched for."

The voice belonged to Brom and eragon froze. Why had Garrow told Brom about his dragon. Brom could sense the dragon like he could? With his mind, eragon told the dragon to hide in the branches of the elm tree, the dragon complied and he moved closer to the door.

"Shh he's almost at the door." Broms voice again.

Eragon was standing 15 feet away from the door and the walls of the house shielded him completely from anyone's sight inside. How had Brom known he was there? Nevertheless, he entered knowing he would not be able to eavesdrop anymore.

"I couldn't find your horse Brom."

Brom looked at him with a troubled expression on his face.

"Lad... Ill be straight with you, there's no need to hide what you and I both already know. Call your dragon inside. I do not wish for her to be seen by a weary passerby. We must keep your... Situation as secret as possible."

Shoulders slumping resignedly, he called it with his mind, hoping it would be able to hear him. He wanted to get this days strangeness over with.

It came, flapping its large wings and settled onto the kitchen table regally puffing smoke out of its nostrils.

Broms eye grew wide at the sight and Eragon watched as his fingers trembled a little. With a strangled choke he reached forward as if to touch it with his hand but his long sleeve caught on the side of the table and rode up all the way to his arm. This did not bother eragon in the slightest, but the mark of the riders shimmering on Broms now exposed palm did.

"You're a rider."

It was a statement, not a question. Brom noticing him staring shrugged.

"Aye, yes lad I am, or rather, was. My dragon is dead now, can't be much of a rider without a dragon."

Eragons mind was reeling. Brom was a Dragon rider! A part of the elite group of individuals that had been responsible for keeping peace throughout Algaeasia! A sudden realisation hit him.

"You're not really 60 like you tell people, are you?"

"Catch on pretty quick don't you." Brom smiled giving him a once over "You'll do lad."

Brom turned to Garrow, "We leave tomorrow morning. Time is of essence. Arya is strong, but even she might break under a shade. The sooner we leave, the lesser chance we have of being found out."

Garrow nodded and went inside the house as if to pack up.

"Wait! What's happening? Where are we going and why?"

"Lad, sit down. I'm going to teach you a little about our history."

And then Brom took out his pipe, lit it and began puffing while he told him about the arrival of the elves, the war between the dragons and elves and the beginning of the dragon riders. He told him about the peace they brought and their valour and training. He told him about the magical city of vroenguard that was now destroyed and he told him about galbatorix, the youth who had become a dragon rider and lost his own dragon. How he corrupted the other dragon riders and how he'd banded together with a few other riders and started an extermination of their kind. How he'd killed many riders before he was finally defeated by Vrael the leader of the riders of that time. Vrael had however hesitated with the killing blow and galbatorix in return struck him in the fork between his legs and then cut off Vraels head with his own sword. He'd then educated eragon about the dragon hunts and how galbatorix had hunted down every single dragon who wasn't willing to join him and killed it. Finally, he was left with eight faithful riders at his command and a couple of male dragons who later became insane under his experiments. He wanted to change their gender as he didn't possess female dragons but he wanted to rebuild the riders. Then he told him about a group of people called the varden who were the rebels against the oppressive king and wanted to overthrow him. He told him how the varden and the elves had managed to kill 7 of the forsworn. He told eragon about the 7 dragon eggs that were in galbatorix's possession and how the varden had managed to steal 3 of them, unable to get the other 4 because they were not in Uruba'een at the time. Galbatorix had 4 shades under his command and each of them took an egg to find a possible rider for their egg. Rumours were flying around that 3 of the eggs had hatched but none of the vardens spies had been able to confirm them. A few had tried but they'd vanished, which gave credit to the rumours. People with sensitive information were killed all the time. Brom then told him how the varden was amassing an army and intended to fight against the king but they didn't possess even one dragon rider while the king commanded three maybe four riders and was a rider himself. Then Brom told him that Eragons dragon was a female and explained to him how they would be trained, like every other rider and dragon, to fight, how the responsibility of the world now lay on their shoulders and eragon freaked out. Realising that, Brom began telling eragon about his dragon and how a member of the forsworn named Morzan had killed her in front of him on galbatorix's orders and how Morzan and his accomplices had made him watch as they pierced her wings with stakes that were then magicked into the ground to hold her down, how they'd used their magic to keep her still and then cut her throat and drained her blood like she was a common farm animal. He'd then asked if this was what he wanted for his dragon . A few tears slid past his eyes and into his beard, he took the pipe out of his mouth and set it onto the table. History lesson was over.

Eragon stared at Brom for a second, determination burning in his eyes. He knew he was not a fighter. He was barely of age but if there was one thing Garrow had taught him, it was the sense of right and wrong. Galbatorix was wrong, killing and maiming creatures for no reason was wrong. He was a man who had claimed the throne by killing the king before him in cold blood and taken his crown from the man's dead body. Unbeknownst to him, his emotions were being fueled by a very agitated and furious dragon who, although too young to speak with her mind, was sentient enough to get the gist of what was being said.

In a quietly determined voice, he said, "Would you train me Brom. I would not lose my dragon, not if I could help it, it is irrational but I fear I'd rather die than let it come to harm."

The dragon sent a loving caress towards his mind and puffed out smoke from her nostrils.

Brom smiled.

"This one is a drama queen and yes I would be honoured to do that."


	7. Chapter 7

Harry:

The cell was dark and gloomy. The floor and the walls were lined with filth and the bed he was sitting upon was made of some kind of metal and was hard and unforgivingly cold. A single thin mattress, dirty and lined with holes served as meager protection against the cold. On the bed lay a man who looked about 25 years old. His dark hair were rumpled carelessly and his green almond shaped eyes seemingly glinted in the darkness of the damp cell. His face was a pale white and His leg was bent in a way it shouldn't be, most assuredly broken. Jagged bones formed tents in his skin piercing it in some places so a whiteness was exposed to the environment, almost like the tip of an iceberg in the Antarctic ocean.

Despite the obvious discomfort Harry must have been in, he was humming a merry tune under his breath. His plan had worked as perfectly as one could hope for.

When he'd designed the ritual, he knew that his muscles would atrophy and he would be a weakling upon awakening. This could only be rectified if a runic spell was placed upon him. The problem with this was that some runes could be activated only when they received a signal from the magical signature of the person who had created them and the ritual required him to use these runes. As Nathaniel had been the one to draw them, only he would have been able to activate the spell that returned his former strength and form. The only problem was that Nathaniel would be dead when he woke up. So he had to tinkered with the specifics of the ritual and modified it so the muscle replenishing runes thought the dropping of Nathaniel's ward was the signal from his magical signature to begin restoring his health.

It had been an unpleasant prospect, being exposed like that when he was weak. They had considered using two wards, one he could drop and gain strength while the other still functioned but that was risky. Ward maintaining used his magic and if he used a lot of magic, then chances were he would wake up earlier and still be insane so he needed all his magic to be focused upon his occlumency for his healing. So they'd finally settled on one ward. Durza's attack, howevever unpleasant, brought about only a slight glitch in his plans. And even that had worked in his favour. He was now alone in a cell, undisturbed while he regained his physical strength and began looking years younger.

Harry sighed as his knee suddenly popped back into place and bone shards were fused back together with the main piece and stopped humming. The runic magic had taken approximately 16 hours to complete its work. It's job being to return him to exactly the same physical condition he'd been in when he was in his prime. He'd used this runic sequence plenty of times whenever his bones became weak and his joints annoyed him.

Harry knew he was the greatest master of magic alive. He had performed magics of the sort no living soul had even dreamed about, he'd created whole fields of magic and extensively studied everything about wand magic, soul magic, voice magics, animagus magic and even expanded the ridiculously arcane and difficult fields. He'd even performed every ritual for physical enhancement that was ever created. He was many times faster than a vampire now, his skin couldn't be cut by anything from the outside nor could he be burnt, his spinal cord was unbreakable as was his skull. The same magic however would not work on his limbs or rib cage unfortunately. His eyesight was so sharp that he could count the individual legs of a caterpillar that was 10 meters away from him and his night vision was better than an owls. His body was impervious to poison, he'd had to use the blood from a phoenix for that particular ritual, his reflexes were so fast it was ridiculous. His hearing was so good, he could hear the wings of a fly beating on the other side of a wall. His eyes and earbuds were undamagable. His nose was so enhanced by his rituals, he could smell heat. He could tell the ingredients of most potions by sniffing them once or if the postion was too complicated, then by drinking a spoonful. The taste and smell helping him. He'd performed so many rituals upon himself that he didn't even remember all of them.

And this, was exactly the reason why he'd gone mad, doing these rituals required a person to cut runes into his own body, the rituals could last for hours on end and could drive you insane. Some of them were so dark even Voldemort wouldn't have performed them. Blood Rituals had existed since before wand magic and they were the oldest form of magic known to wizards after normal runic magic.

He sat up in his cell and walked a few steps towards the cell door, his thoughts shifting to the woman they'd brought in after him.

She was carried between two burly men, unconscious. Her midnight black hair covering her face shifted every time the men took a step forward and revealed a heart wrenchingly beautiful face. His blood burned feverishly and he felt a strange emotion bubble in his throat. Harry's mind registered it faintly as a mixture of possessiveness and protectiveness.

She was dressed in dark leather pants and a shirt that was torn and showed dark wounds underneath. Wrapped around her waist was a leather belt from which hung an empty sheath on her right hip. Knee high boots covered her calves and her small feet.

Harry knew that he was going to take the woman with him when he left. Maybe it was an impulsive, irrational decision but he didn't care.

Harry grabbed at a portion of thin air and pulled. Suddenly his lightspeed 2000(his broomstick), his wand, the stone and his invisibility cloak became visible. He had wrapped his invisibility cloak around them and then charmed it to follow him before dropping the wards.

He put on the ring and then shrunk his broomstick and pocketed it. He put on his cloak and pointed his wand at the cell door.

"Alohomora"

The door refused to budge.

He tried again but the door stubbornly stayed put. Frowning, he sent tendrils of magic towards the door and saw strange strings of energy binding the door shut, he focused on them and sent a cutting charm at it. It passed through harmlessly. Whatever magic they used, it was apparently different from his own brand of magic. He sighed, sending forth a magical probe, he tried to untie the knots of energy. His effort failed.

Four hours later, harry still stood in front of the door, everything he tried had failed. He could, of course apparate out, but he didn't want to. Every time he looked at the cell door, he felt as if it was mocking him. To him, this door was a challenge.

He imagined the door speaking.

"Hah, so powerful! But can't undo a simple spell. Take that you stupid wizard."

In his imagination the door was sticking its tongue out at doors words were ringing in his head. Undo a simple spell?

He sighed, if this worked, then it didn't matter because the door would still win. The sheer stupidity of him working for four hours trying to get it open when such a simple spell would have sufficed showed that the blasted door had fooled him utterly.

"Finite."

The ward dropped.

"You've got to be kidding me. Really? A simple finite?"

The door smirked at him smugly.

He pushed it open and began searching for the woman.

An imaginary voice inside his head started singing.

Harry's in love, Harry's in love. Tra LA LA LA LA.

Shut up will you? We just saw her. We can't be in love with her already.

Why?

Because I said so.

The voice fell silent. Harry was puzzled, his thoughts were organised, he was no longer insane, but now he was capable of carrying out conversations with himself inside his head?

Magic sometimes had side effects.

The corridors of the prison were dark and gloomy, he began sending out legilimency probes to see if someone knew where the woman was. He turned right as corridor split in two and continued his search. A door at the opposite end of the corridor he was in opened opened and a soldier walked out. He had a bottle of beer in one hand and was clearly intoxicated. He attacked the soldiers mind, searching for the cell of the woman.

What he learnt terrified him to the core of his very being. According to the soldier, she was the shades personal plaything. Normally this would disgust a person, but Harry knew that shades had no interest in sex but they loved giving pain. She would be going through hell right now.

Quickly he noted that the shade was in deepest part of the dungeons. He cast an imperius on the man, followed by an extremely over-powered notice-me-not charm on both of them and forced him to lead him all the way to the chamber where the shade was "playing" with her. They passed a few people, mostly soldiers but none of them took notice of them.

Screams rent the air and cut off suddenly, then a gurgling sounds like someone forced to drink something they'd rather not. The smell of burnt flesh followed immediately after.

Not needing the soldier anymore, he stunned him and followed the smell.

He was in front of the four doored room again. This time 2 women and 2 men stood guard around it. Harry knew that the notice-me-not was not going to fool them. His fears were confirmed as they promptly attacked him on the mental plane, he deflected their probes aside with sharp jabs of his own legilimency, and they fell unconcious, their minds turned to mush. What happens when a fly hits the windshield of a car going at 80? Splat!

He entered the room. The woman was laid on a red glowing table naked. Her entire torso covered with burns and claw marks. Red hot knives pierced her hands and feet, holding her down. Her eyes and ears were both missing. The shades mouth was dripping with blackish liquid.

"The venom" he thought despairingly. The spirits of his time had known no cure. He hoped people belonging to the present time would know. The woman was awake and fully conscious. Something was being poured into her mouth, something hot that glowed orange. A gurgle issued, she was blowing air out, as if trying to cool the liquid but then she inhaled... And harry winced.

He pointed his wand at the shade and threw a bludgeoning curse.

The shade flew away from the woman and hit the opposite wall but he got up immediately, snarling.

A ball of menacing red light was thrown at him. He dodged. He conjured a block of glass banishing it towards the shade. The shade dropped to the ground and the glass burst into tiny shards hitting the wall behind him. Harry smiled, his plan was going to work.

Durza stared at him in disbelief, "is that the best you've got? Surely you didn't think you'd be able to kill me so easily?"

In the corner, Harry saw the liquid fire burning its way slowly Into the woman's throat and lungs. Judging from the coughing and wheezing, she wouldn't last long.

He turned his attention back to the shade, who was attacking his mind with abandon. It was annoying to say the least.

He had to end this fight and he had to end it now.

He called upon every little bit of legilimency he possessed. Refining it into a sharp point, he attacked Durza with everything he had. 100,000 years of refinement and practice and Durza was driven to the knee trying to hold back the onslaught. Harry doubled his effort and Durza's defenses split apart. He dove into his mind and copied every single memory into his mind. He was done within seconds, spirits couldn't die and were immortal. So if he absorbed their memories, he could learn about centuries of history.

He knew that Durza was only momentarily overwhelmed, shades were resilient to the extreme. Harry had been able to rip his mind open so easily only because the shade wasn't expecting it.

"Jierda"

Harry saw as energy left Durza's body. Be threw up a protego shield and grunted. His skull felt like someone had tried to break it open with a sledgehammer. His shield charm hadn't worked as well as he'd hoped but his runes worked perfectly. Something strange, however, was happening to Durza. He had dropped suddenly and was lying gasping on the floor. Like someone had literally sapped all energy out of him.

"How?" He said between panted breaths, "this should not BE possible."

"Do you know the story of the cat who was curious?"

Durza got up warily, shaking his head.

Harry pointed his wand at durza summoning the broken glass behind him. Durza went into a crouch expecting an attack from in front. Literally a thousand shards of glass pierced the unsuspecting man in his back and then came out the other side.

He let out a terrifying scream and began smoking and abruptly vanished.

Softly Harry whispered, "It died."

Harry turned towards the woman. The fighting hadn't even lasted a minute. He moved closer to her and saw that the table she was laid upon wasn't coloured red. It was actually grey coloured iron heated until it glowed red. He was amazed, no human could have survived something like this! He tried levitating her off, but something blocked him.

Someone had cast a tricky ward on this bed, it wouldn't let an occupant leave unless someone else took her place. It wasn't simple enough to be finite'd.

Grunting he cast a switching spell on her. Now she rested on the floor but he was on the bed.

To be honest, it HURT! He couldn't be burnt, but he could feel the pain. He shut down the part of his brain that screamed at him to get out and focused on the woman. He cast a diagnostic charm on her, she was barely alive! Swearing, he cast a few healing spells on her, until her body was in a more or less survivable shape.

He looked around for an object to transfigure, into the shape of a human.

The room was littered with torture devices but none of them reacted to his magic, they were warded against magic! Durza was good, even with his victim tied on a torture bed, he still wasn't going to risk being attacked by a transfigured or charmed object.

He began a conjuration frustrated. He had never before conjured a human being. This would take a brief while, he considered breaking the ward, but discarded the thought. He didn't know enough about their magics. He could brute force it and break it of course, but it could result in the destruction of the whole building. He wasn't going to risk it.

About 15 minutes later, Harry stood beside the woman, the body he'd conjured hadn't burnt to a crisp like he'd thought it would. Some magic on that bed kept people alive while burning them.

He picked her up. The easiest way of getting out of here would be an apparition. To do that, he would need a location. He couldn't view the shades memories now as they were locked away in his head and if he opened them, he'd have to see through all of them in one sitting or risk losing them altogether.

He nudged at the woman's mind. She had strong shields! He nudged a little harder and then grimaced. She was conscious inside her mind and was sending vicious probes from her mind into his own.

Unwilling to harm her, he let her think she'd won and she entered the outermost section of his mind. He threw up his shields once more, trapping her inside his mind.

She was panicking but harry sent calming energy towards her using his occlumency. She was in his mind and could be influenced by his occlumency now.

"I am not your enemy, the shade is dead and you are weak. We need to escape from here as soon as we can. I have a spell that can take us wherever it is you want to go."

Her presence in his mind blinked.

"I don't believe you nor do I trust you. Your words are sweet, but this prison is not."

She gestured towards the walls around his mind.

Harry sighed. He pushed the memory of his encounter with Durza to the forefront of his mind. What was it with everything going absurdly wrong this day?

He knew the second she gained a measure of trust in him.

"Only a fool would kill a person he saved. I have neither a reason nor any irrational inclination to harm you. We must leave, you are weaker than you can imagine. The shades poison-" Harry said.

"I am well aware of what a shades poison- is capable of doing sir but there is something in this city that I need and I would ask for your help in retrieving it.

There was a sense of urgency about her mind that made harry believe this was important.

Well, he'd made so many foolish decisions today, he could make one more.

He nodded at her presence.

"Tell me more."

"There's a dragons egg, hidden somewhere in the city. The shade-Durza, he was the one protecting it. He's gone now but he'll come back in a day or two. I need to find it and take it with me."

"Madam." Harry forced the word through his throat, it sounded wrong. "You're being unreasonable, surely, a dragon egg is not worth so much trouble?"

Why did she want a dragons egg?

"Maybe she's one of Hagrids distant relatives" the voice inside his head suggested.

Harry nodded to himself. That would make sense. God if Hagrid's madness ran in blood, then half the world would be infected by now.

"You fool, dont you understand the importance of this matter? It's a rider egg. We must take it with us!"

Harry sighed, nothing the woman said was making sense.

"At least Show me what it looks like madam."

She sent 4 pictures, one each of a red, green, brown and grey egg.

"It could be any of them."

Harry gave her a mental nod.

"I need a picture of a deserted street in this city."

A hesitance, then a picture was forwarded.

Harry lowered the walls around his mind and the woman escaped back to her body.

He had an object to find. He cast a disillusionment charm on himself, the feeling of sticky liquids flowing down his body never failed to unnerve him. Charming his cloak to wrap around her, he grabbed her and apparated to the city above.

The first thing he noticed was the heat. By the gods, it was hot. The next thing he noticed was the air, it was so much cleaner than the air in the past. The third thing he noticed was how medieval everything looked.

The building's looked like they belonged to the 1200's. He peeked out of the alley he was standing in and was surprised to see that people were using horses. There were no cars or motorcycles anywhere.

This was troublesome. It seemed like he was back in the past instead of the future.

He shrugged it off and took out his wand. Placing it on his palm he whispered, "point me"

The wand tipped towards the right, harry followed while wandlessly levitating the woman behind him.

The spell fizzled out when he reached a decrepit looking building on the outskirts of the city in the middle of a barren field. He knew this was only an attempt to hide the building for what it truly was. A fortress, it emananted so much magic, he felt like he was drowning in it. He knocked on the woman's mind.

"Yes?"

"I've found the place."

"So soon?" Surprise emanated from her.

"Yes, I'm more than a 100% sure that we will be attacked as soon as I step through that gate. Can you become conscious for an hour. I cannot levitate you now, and I'd like to use your experience, do you know anything about wards?

He felt her mind edge towards the building. She gave a mental gasp when she saw it. Followed by a feeling of intense despair.

"We shan't be able to enter, sir, its too extensive, I'd thought the wards were tied to the shade himself but they aren't. They're tied to other people. I can't risk capture again. We need to leave."

Harry frowned. The woman hadn't meant to offend him, he knew that, but he was offended. In his mind he considered this a challenge and he never backed down from one.

"I am not accustomed to leaving a job half done. Rest if you will, I shall retrieve the blasted egg."

He withdrew from her mind despite her frantic calls, staring at the building. A look of intense concentration in his eyes.

He recognised a few of the wards or rather the purpose behind them. Rather nasty wards. They wouldn't just try to kill him but destroy his very soul and use the soul energy to make the wards stronger. He knew what to do.

Raising his wand, he sent a supercharged bolt of magic into the building. He was going to overload the death wards. If enough energy was sent into them, they would explode. A few seconds later a sharp crack tore through the quiet air. The death wards were down. He transfigured a rock into a dog and threw it over the gates. The wards reacted immediately, the dog was burnt to a crisp, but harry wasn't concerned with that. The air had rippled when he'd tossed the dog in. There were living people behind the gates and all of them were hiding behind an illusion. He wasn't able to sense their minds but that didn't concern him. Many potions were capable of reproducing the same effect in his time. This fight was going to turn into a bloodbath as soon as he brought down the wards. They wanted him to be as drained as possible before attacking and overwhelming him.

Harry grinned, the prospect of the upcoming fight sending adrenaline through his body.

"Finite"

The illusion fell and Harry stared surprised. There were atleast 50 magicians behind the gates. A slow smile crept onto his face. They hadn't realised he had removed their spell.

"Bombarda" the reddish spell flew from his wand, he'd massively over-powered it to compensate for the wards on the gate itself.

The spell hit the gate and it fell backward onto the lawn.

The magicians attacked his mind but the probes were deflected by his occlumency.

Two Huge gouts of flames were thrown at him. The searing heat burned him and he was blinded by the light. He couldn't burn, but feel the pain, he did. He shrugged it off. The pain was bothersome but not major. An arrow flew through the air, aimed right at his heart. He reached out and caught it, before sending it back with a flick of his wrist. A piercing scream rent the air and a figure fell, he grinned, satisfied. His magic was reacting to the adrenaline now and there was an aura of power about him. The wards protested against his continued advance and he let out a massive wave of magical energy, an almost translucent shield of energy surrounding him and protecting him from the wards onslaught.

Suddenly the world shifted and a pit opened in front of him and behind him. There was a second illusion which he hadn't dispelled! He was trapped! The magicians were standing around him in a circle. They attacked his mind again, trying to overwhelm him but he flicked them aside, exasperated. His mind was impregnable and his opponents knew it.

"They won't learn will they?" The voice in his head piped up.

"No they most certainly won't." Harry replied.

"Operation "I kill them now" is a go?" It said.

"Yes buddy, lets kill them now."

He grinned, the magicians were in strategically excellent places around him. 15 in front of him, 15 behind him and 10 to each side. When they attacked his mind, all of his occlumency barriers were engaged in defending him, disabling him from sending forward an attacking probe from anywhere. It would have been effective on anyone else.

Harry realised that they thought he was cornered. Hah! He let his barriers break down slightly towards the front of his mind. The magicians were in for a surprise.

Immediately the ones in front of him began attacking the spot with renewed fervour while the others intensified their attacks so he wouldn't be able to concentrate enough.

Harry let the 15 of them enter the front part of his mind before throwing up his occlumency barriers, trapping them inside just like he'd done to the woman. He raised his wand, ignoring their frightened thoughts inside his head. And swiped it in an arc, lazily.

"Sectumsempra"

Fifteen heads dropped to the ground and the presences in his head vanished, dying a sudden but quick death.

The other magicians were now desperately throwing spells at him. Strange words were issuing from there mouths, his head was pounding, someone had tried to break it again. A rather sinister, invisible spell headed towards him, he moved out of the way, but the spell followed him. That was the problem with their magic, it couldn't be dodged! He was reading the intentions of the people who were casting spells. This spell would melt his brain, another man cast a spell to turn and another magician, this time a woman, cast a spell to remove all water from his body.

He couldn't let those spells touch him. He quickly transfigured himself into a stone, the spells washing over him harmlessly. He hadnt put a lot of power into the spell, so the transfiguration would barely last a second at most.

He couldn't risk fighting for any longer. Their magic was too unorthodox and unpredictable.

Raising his wand he unleashed fiend fire. Great swirling flames incinerated every single one of the magicians around him. Instead of putting out the flames, he directed them towards the building's walls, the burning magical energy, weakening the remaining wards on it first then breaking them altogether. He raised his wand and summoned the troublesome dragons egg.

Suddenly Harry had a deep sense of foreboding. He had experimented with seers for a few centuries trying to learn the art himself. There had been a small problem. Becoming a seer was literally impossible. Seers were born, not made, but he hadn't given up and after centuries of testing, he'd given himself the ability to predict when he'd be in a truly life and death situation.

His "sixth sense" was now blinking like crazy in his head, like an aeroplane radar, except instead of small spots, the whole screen was covered.

He had triggered one of the defensive wards on the building. How a ward could still be standing, he didn't know. The amount of magical energy he'd released today was spectacular. The danger was not apparent, but his sixth sense had never failed him yet, neither had it ever malfunctioned. He was a 100% sure that his very existence was at a threat right now.

After a few moments, he noticed the eluding ward and cursed. The ward came up only if all the others were disabled and It was rigged. As soon as it was triggered, it would gain energy until it had enough to level the entire city and then explode. He knocked on the womans mind.

Something came flying out of one of the windows.

The egg!

He caught it and turned on the spot apparating beside the woman. The ward was almost charged. Not having any time, he cut through her lowered shields like knife through butter and retrieved one single image before grabbing her and turning on the spot, his mind faintly registering a roaring sound and the savage burning on his left arm.


End file.
